


Spirits, Courage, and Hawkes

by the_intrepid_poet16



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Inquisition Spoilers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:06:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_intrepid_poet16/pseuds/the_intrepid_poet16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was creating a superior weapon the only motivation behind Danarius' lyrium ritual? Or was there something much more sinister behind the cruel ritual?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirits, Courage, and Hawkes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a headcanon I saw on Tumblr. You can find it here: http://taranoire.tumblr.com/post/104582615182/oh-my-god-you-know-how-in-da-i-we-find-out-that The headcanon does reveal spoilers from Inquisition, so don't follow the link if you don't want spoilers.

It could feel the boy’s fear, his anguish, but also his acceptance. The elf was fulfilling a duty, saving someone from a worse fate. That was honorable. That was courageous. It was the former that drew the Spirit of Courage closer. It felt pity for the elf; a slave to a cruel master, for only a cruel man could ever preform such a ritual. The lyrium was searing the boy’s skin, and it was a wonder that this Leto was still alive. The Spirit closed in on the boy, letting its essence drape over the boy like a protective cloth. 

You have done well. Rest now. There is no need to fear the darkness. Do not be afraid. You have such courage.

And he wasn’t afraid. The boy took what courage he could from the Spirt and began to drift off. The Spirit knew its job was done. It was time to leave. It pulled itself from the boy… And was stuck. It couldn’t move. It couldn’t leave this place. But it had to go back to the Fade! That was its home, not here! Why couldn’t it leave? Something… Something in the lyrium. There was something in the lyrium that kept it trapped no matter how desperately it pulled. That magister.

Then something began pushing on it. The Spirit panicked. It was being pushed into the boy, the boy who was barely alive now. No, no, no, no! This couldn’t be. This was not meant to be. The harder the Spirit fought, the harder the force pushed. Push, pull, push, pull. The Spirit didn’t know how long that battle waged, but it was getting tired. It couldn’t continue like this. It tried once more to break free, but the force against it was too strong. The Spirit crumpled. The force pushed it deep into the boy. Blackness overcame it, and it knew no more.

For a long time, it didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t free; it was trapped inside something. No, someone. Someone who didn’t know it existed either. It tried to remember, tried to figure out what it once was. Nothing. Nothing but the dark. 

Then a spark. A spark of agitation from its vessel. The person… No the elf, was angry. He wanted to act out, wanted to stop whatever was happening. But he was too afraid. He didn’t have… Something. Willingness? No, that wasn’t quite right. Passion? No, not that either. What was it?

Those sparks happened every now and again. Each one made it remember something. And when it remembered something, so did its vessel. The vessel was a slave, an elf in some land. The vessel didn’t want to be a slave, but it had no other choice. He was always in pain. Something to do with the lyrium under his skin. He didn’t want those either. The vessel was never aware of the being inside of him. It had to wonder if this was better. 

The day it learned it was a Spirit was the day Fenris was left behind by his master. The Qunari took Fenris in. The Spirit watched through the elf’s eyes as he learned he could be his own person. Something was growing inside of Fenris. Persistence? Wisdom? No, no, no. The Spirit knew it had to do with what it was. It was a Spirit of something! But what? Why was it bonded to this elf in the first place? He had… Needed him. The elf had been… Suffering. The Spirit came to him and then… What? It couldn’t remember. 

Fenris was happy with the Fog Warriors. The Spirit could sense his ease with the Qunari. He felt at home here, and the Spirit was content as well. But the peace didn’t last. The Master returned. The Master wanted the Qunari dead. Fenris didn’t want it. He tried to fight the urge to kill for his Master. The Spirit tried to help, but it didn’t know how. It didn’t know what it was, so how could it help? How could it keep this from happening? It had to watch as Fenris killed the Fog Warriors; his family. It had to watch as the Master reveled in it. It could only feel Fenris’ pain, not help. It couldn’t help because Fenris didn’t have… didn’t have…

Courage.

Courage. That was it! It was a Spirit of Courage! It was trapped inside Fenris’ body after the ritual. The Master… Danarius had trapped him here. The lyrium granted Fenris power, but the Spirit also gave the elf power. Danarius thought to make the Spirit forget its nature; to corrupt it perhaps. No. No longer. The Spirit knew what it was. It would help Fenris escape, then it would find a way to escape Fenris. Somehow. 

Now that the Spirit knew what it was, it could help Fenris find his own courage. But the Spirit never revealed itself. It knew how much Fenris hated magic. If the elf knew he was just a vessel for one, it would cause too much confusion and grief. Better to stay buried, for now. It didn’t take long for Fenris to decide to run away. Fenris fled Tevinter, and the Spirit always provided him with courage, though most of it was the elf’s doing. The Spirit was mainly there to bolster the elf’s own courage. 

Years passed. Years of running and hiding and fighting. The Spirit knew Fenris was tired of it, but it continued to give Fenris courage. It was that courage that led the elf to turn the fight to his Master. To Kirkwall they went. Fenris set a trap for his Master, knowing he was in the city. The Spirit watched it all take place, providing courage when it could. Fenris met some man named Hawke; a pawn turned ally. They stormed Danarius’ mansion, but found only demons and dust. Fenris’ rage was staggering, as was his despair. But before the Spirit could help Fenris find his courage again, Hawke came. 

It was like that for a long time. The Spirit didn’t have to give Fenris any extra courage. The elf took his from Hawke. As Fenris spent more time with Hawke, the Spirit could feel a new emotion within him. Love. The Spirit was… happy for Fenris. He’d finally found someone to give him real strength. Hawke could give Fenris more courage than the Spirit ever could. It wasn’t needed anymore, and that wasn’t a bad thing. The spirit would remain within Fenris, but it would never fully show itself. Doing so would make Fenris less human. It was better if the Spirit remained hidden away. It would immerge again if needed, but it doubted it ever would be.


End file.
